Frail hearts
They bleed
Like ink on paper
Damaging
Like weight in water
Drowning
Like withered leaves
Dying
We are trying
Frail hearts
They bleed
Like ink on paper
Damaging
Like weight in water
Drowning
Like withered leaves
Dying
We are trying
It lingers on
The light of the moon
The smell of burning wood
The bittersweet cold nights
The leaves rustling
They remind me of you
Stay
The raging storm is Zen.
Dark clouds blanketing the sun.
The thunder crying.
The lightening embrace.
The waves pushing and pulling.
Razor sharp in a game of tug-and-war.
The sand flutters in an eternal dance.
The raging storm is Zen.
No one can love you,
as much as you can love yourself.
No one can believe in you,
as much as you can believe in yourself.
No one can be as patient with you,
as you are with yourself.
No one can be forgiving of you,
as you are with yourself.
No one but you.
Scattered leaves rejoices as the autumn rain showers them with love.
They remain calm until the wind carry them to their final resting grounds.
Winter will bury them with love underneath the brittle cold earth.
Patiently they await for the arms of spring to embrace them.
Together they will dance into the fierce summer.